True Revenge
by ElfFlame
Summary: Narcissa thought she'd hit the jackpot when she married a Malfoy. How wrong she was. Part one of the True Revenge series
1. Engaging Concerns

Author's note: First thing off the bat, there are OotP spoilers in this, so if you haven't read the book, and don't want to know, don't read any further.  Also, as we all know, that very lucky lady JK Rowling owns these characters, I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

This story is something that has been percolating in my head for a while now, and was definitely fed by discovering that not only is Narcissa a Black, but that she has two sisters.  The information I truly wanted from OotP was anything about Lily, as I have been trying for about a year to write a Lily/James fic, but having little success because there is so little information about her.  The thing, though that finally brought this out in me, was being pulled in by Draco/Harry and Draco/Hermione fics, the most important being Irresistable Poison, by Rhysenn, which can be found at Fiction Alley, and which I HIGHLY recommend, as long as you're willing to read a Draco/Harry slashfic.

This is Narcissa as I see her.  Like her namesake, she is mostly concerned with herself, though as you'll see, she has definite emotion about her husband.  Also, though I started this off thinking that she could not possibly care for Draco, (given her narcissism and the fact that Draco is so much his father's son), she does seem to authentically care for him in this story.  I have tried to work in all the mentions of Narcissa there have been in the series, to explain why Draco sees his mother the way he does despite the fact that I'm certain she was far from a good mother.  I only hope that I've done her story justice.  No, I'm not fond of her, but she kept screaming in my head until I wrote it.  I don't know if there will be any more.  What do you think?  If I get enough reviews, I MIGHT consider writing more.

One more comment here.  This will actually be a three- or even four-piece series.  The second piece will be written about Lucius by my friend Foodie, who at the current moment is still reading the books so that she can make the piece sufficiently dark.  I will post a link here once she's gotten it up. The third will be another story about Lucius, and a woman who captures his attention like no one has before.  The fourth, if I decide to do it, will be Draco's reaction to his father's new love.  The third piece is already partially up, and Foodie updates fairly often, with or without reviews, so check it out.  It's called De Die In Diem: From Day to Day, and can be found on FF.net.  Go check it out.  It's really fun.

Address all opinions, rants, raves, etc to elfflame@hotmail.com

True Revenge

By elfflame

Part 1

            Narcissa Malfoy looked at herself in the mirror.  Beautiful.  Long, wavy silver-blonde hair curled around face; icy blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes; small turned-up nose; lush rose lips; and pale porcelain skin.  Beautiful, but cold.  From earliest memory, Narcissa could recall everyone telling her how she was the most beautiful of her sisters.  Andromeda had bright strawberry-blonde hair, and a very rosy complexion, Bellatrix, on the other hand, took after the Black side of the family, with deep brown, nearly black hair, though she had Narcissa's slender face.  But Narcissa knew she was better than both of them.  And she'd proved it.  Especially once Andromeda had become a blood-traitor and married that mudblood.  And Bellatrix had been unable to marry better than Lestrange, and look where they'd ended up.  She, Narcissa, had made the catch of the century.  She had married Lucius Malfoy.

            How she regretted it.  

            Malfoy had been three years ahead of her at Hogwarts, and every girl in Slytherin had vied for his attention.  Even the ones who couldn't claim full-blood heritage.  As soon as she could, she had made sure he knew she was available.  She had set her cap for him, and what she wanted, she got.

            It wasn't as though there weren't any other rich, full-blood wizards who would have done in Slytherin who wanted to date her, but Malfoy was the best.  His family could be traced back many centuries, all full-blooded witches and wizards, and Malfoy manor was known in the wizarding world as one of the oldest, most authentic wizarding manors.

            And so, when he had noticed her, and deigned to pay her attentions, she had been thrilled.  She had floated on cloud nine for weeks.  Then she had settled into routine with him.  They had dated for two years, then at the end of her fifth year, she had received the thing she had wanted all along—a proposal.

            It had been the first clue.  She should have run then, when she'd had the chance.

            It had started out as the most perfect evening ever.  Lucius had been taking over duties from his father all year, since he had finished his final year the year before.  The ball that they attended was intended to celebrate his formal acceptance into his father's company, as his second in command.  After a year doing his father's dirty work, he would now have lackeys of his own to deal with the details.  After toasts had been made, and she and Lucius had danced the first dance together, he had led her to patio, where they stood alone for a moment, to let the evening air cool them.  

            He had turned to her, and looked at her appraisingly.  He took her hand, and placed the ring on it, before she truly understood what was happening.  "Narcissa, will you be my wife?"

            She had not expected him to get on his knees, this was Lucius Malfoy, after all, but the question was not at all what she had expected.  Lucius was not a man who asked.  He told.  And you either agreed with him, or you never saw him again.  She had learned that from watching his other conquests, who had been dumped the moment they had tried to assert their own independence.  So she had been very careful their entire relationship, never a cross word, never tried to change him, always made sure to agree with everything he told her.  Even when she didn't.

            So, at this choice, she had no idea how to answer at first.  But the indecision did not last long.  Warily, she had smiled, then nodded her head.

            That was when the first blow had fallen.

            Lucius's grin was cold.  He had obviously not doubted her answer.  "Good."  He turned from her, then continued.  "Since you will be married to me, you really don't need your NEWTs, so we will plan the wedding for a year from December.  I expect you to provide me an heir, then your time is yours to do what you will…or whom, as long as you ensure that you bring no bastards into my home to pollute my son."  He turned back to her, his eyes malicious, a wide, cold grin on his face.  "Understood?"

            Her eyes grew wide.  This was a proposal?  But she nodded, then took his arm once more when he offered it to her, and they returned to the ball.  The rest of the evening was spent in a haze, but she refused to show emotion in public.  And once she returned home, there was no one to share that part of the news with.  Certainly, they would all want to know, so the plans could be started, but Bella and she had never gotten along, and Andri had been disowned the year before when she'd married that mudblood.  

            And so the plans had been made.  Time had gone quite fast, and she had not had time to dwell on Lucius's 'proposal.'  Then, on their wedding day, all her doubts had come flooding back.

            She had been left alone in the dressing room, looking at herself in the mirror.  After all, this was her wedding day.  She had to look absolutely perfect.  Her ten attendants had been sent out of the room to give her a few moments of privacy.  

Unfortunately, this meant that she was unable to have them prevent him from entering the room.  He did not knock at all, just swept in, dressed in black and silver, and glared at his soon-to-be wife.  "What in all hells is this garbage I've heard that you don't want to use the ring I gave you for my wedding band?"

She gaped at him.  "Lucius?"

"Your—father—said that you intended to use that…that ring of his!"

"My father's father's wedding ring?  …Well, yes."

He stormed toward her and slammed something onto the dressing table.  His voice was velvet steel.  "Use this.  I refuse to wear that…thing.  You are becoming my wife, and I will not allow you to mark me."  He turned and swept from the room.

She picked up the black velvet box he had placed on the table, and opened it to see a gold ring, obviously old, with a square of obsidian set with a large diamond.  The band had been engraved with the word "Malfoy."

From a small silk bag that hung from her waist, she pulled out a smaller, green-velvet box.  Opening it, she looked at the much more colorful ring—two shades of gold, intertwined, unadorned but for two gems, one a pale blue topaz, the other a deep violet amethyst.  It had been passed from generation to generation, and when her only male cousin, Sirius, had been disowned, it had passed to her father, who had not allowed her sister Andromeda to use it, so the ring had then passed to Narcissa.  Who better to give it to than the man she would spend her life with?

But he didn't want it.

Blacks did not cry.  Not even when they were to become Malfoys.  If anything, tears would be less allowed.  She now had little doubt that nothing would sway Lucius to anything she wanted.  She would have to go along.  Perhaps, someday…

…Perhaps there would be someone to pass it down to.  She took a deep breath, put both boxes in her bag, then checked her appearance once more.   She had gone completely white, and spent several minutes adding a bit more blush to her cheeks, just to restore some color.

Her attendants arrived about fifteen minutes later, her father in tow.  "Well, my dear.  You look lovely.  Shall we go?"  He offered her his arm, and he led her out of the room.  The look Lucius gave her as her father led her down the aisle was not so much proud as a man appraising a new belonging.  She swallowed over the dryness in her throat, and leaned her cheek for her father to kiss as they reached Lucius's side.  Lucius took her arm, and together they ascended the stairs to the minister.  As the minister began the long ceremony, Narcissa closed her eyes and tried desperately to slow her breathing.

She had not ever felt the need to be in love with her husband-to-be, after all, it seemed such a useless emotion.  She had assumed that if she found the right man, that it would automatically be a good marriage.  After all, what makes a better marriage than money and position?  But she would quickly learn.


	2. Married Life

So, here's part two, folks.  Only got one review so far…  I hope more than that are reading it…  K, so I've decided that part three will not go up until I get a total of five reviews.  That's all.  That's not that many…

And to Azi – thanks for reviewing, I hope interesting means that you liked it, and that you enjoy this next bit.  Turns out we've decided to post them as different, but connected stories.  I hope you'll read Foodie's too. :)

Also, Foodie's posted the third part of this series.  It's called De Die In Diem: From Day to Day.  Go check it out.  It's funny.

Part 2

Her wedding night was miserable.  The things he had done to her were…unspeakable.  Afterwards, he gave her her own room, and "visited" her there about once a week, despite her distaste for his touch.

But that was nothing, as their first few years together showed Narcissa just how bad it could get.  At first, Lucius seemed mostly to ignore her, but when she did not immediately become pregnant, she soon earned his displeasure.  After all, it was her job to provide the next Malfoy heir.  As she had not yet complied, she must be punished.  At first she was told that she was required to stay in bed the mornings after he had "visited" her at night.  Then as time went on, and she still had not conceived, he truly began to punish her.  First it was little things—the destruction of her favorite things, thrown carelessly into her fireplace.  Then there were the insults—slut, weakling, brainless twit, silly little girl.  Finally he began the true abuse—first it was just a slap across the face when he discovered that her menses had come and gone, with still no heir to show for it; then a punch in the gut when she got in his way, or disobeyed him in any way; and finally, he began to use his favorite toy.  A silver, snake-handled cane.  He would hold it out as she passed so that she would trip, then laugh at her puddled form on the floor.  She quickly learned not to try to get up until after he had left, as he would kick at her and hit her with his cane when she did.  

He was very careful not to hit her anywhere the marks would show, as he had not simply married her for a baby factory.  She was his arm decoration for events, so she had to look her best, which meant that as long as she could cover it with clothing, it was okay, but he would never touch her face.  A bruise would mar her complexion, and he didn't want that.

And so she endured six years of abuse with Lucuis Malfoy.  At home, she avoided him as much as possible.  Though she got pregnant finally in their third year together, she soon lost it, and this was followed by a string of miscarriages in the next two years.  He blamed this on her as well, and his abuse became more merciless than before.  Finally, she became pregnant and managed to keep the child for more than a month.  Lucius was thrilled.  He began to make arrangements.  Narcissa became both alarmed and relieved when told by the witch-nurse that Lucius had hired for the pregnancy that she was required to stay in bed for the entire pregnancy,.  Alarmed, because here in her room, she would be unable to escape from Lucius's battering, which had become such a habit that he had continued them into all her previous pregnancies; and then relieved when Lucius had suddenly disappeared from the house for months, to show up only now and then and mention his dealings with "those in power," and to see how she had "progressed." at 

Narcissa wondered, for she had been keeping up with the news, and she knew that several of Lucius's friends had openly declared their support for the man they called "The Dark Lord," and the rest of the wizarding world called "You-Know-Who."  She knew that he had always been obsessed with the dark arts, back in their school days.  And even back then Voldemort had been growing in power.  Now she thought that there might be a chance that her husband had joined his cause, and for the first time since their marriage, Narcissa allowed herself to hope.  

Her hopes were far from pleasant, however.  She was hoping that Lucius had, indeed, cast his lot with Lord Voldemort, and that like many Death Eaters before him, Voldemort would take offence at something her husband said or did, and kill him.  Then she would be free.  And her son, for she was certain it would be—any other option was just too terrible to contemplate—she could raise him as she saw fit.

But no such luck.  Her time approached, and her belly grew larger and larger.  Her only exercise was walking from her bed to her bathroom and back.  Her husband, once distracted by his activities, now visited every day, poking and prodding her to feel his son.  After each of these "examinations," he would glare proudly at Narcissa for a moment, then turn and sweep from the room, with no word to her ever passing his lips.

Giving birth was the most pain she had ever experienced in her life.  Even more than the worst beating Lucius had ever given her.  Through a haze of pain, she listened to the witch-nurse argue with Lucius.  The nurse did not feel that it was proper for him to be in the room during the birth, but Lucius would have none of this.  There was a crack, and the next thing she knew, Lucius was looming over her.  "Just a few more moments, girl.  Then it'll be over.  Just give me my son."  It was the last thing she was truly aware of until the next day.  She awoke in her blood- and sweat-soaked bed, a film of dried sweat still covered her.  She could tell it was over.  She felt empty.

The room, too, was empty—no nurse, no baby, and most of all, no Lucius.  The child and the nurse concerned her for a moment, but she was relieved at her husband's absence.  And truly, she knew that she needn't be too concerned about the child, for Lucius had wanted him, and would hardly be likely to harm him.  No, Lucius's son would be treated like a prince.  And if it was a girl?  Well, she was obviously too late to save it.  Her strength would be better served protecting herself when he returned.  If it was a girl she had borne him, the beating he would give her when he came back would make the pain she felt now feel like a gentile breeze.

She pulled herself to a sitting position, then stood for a moment, but quickly collapsed onto her bed once more.  Her head swam, and nausea rose in her throat.  It took her several minutes to regain her composure.  She gazed at the bathroom door longingly, feeling her skin itch from the dried sweat that covered her.  She felt filthy.  If only she could clean herself off…  Then she remembered her wand.  She took the wand from where it lay on her bedside table, and cast a simple cleansing spell on herself that left her so drained that she was barely able to return her wand to its place before she collapsed once more on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

She had never seen that nurse again.

            It had been several days before she even knew for sure that she had had a son.  It had been weeks before she was able to see him.  Lucius guarded him jealously.  She finally managed to sneak in and take a look at her son, sleeping, bathed in pale moonlight.  A perfect replica of his father.  After that, she stopped trying to see him.

            Lucius was true to his word, at least.  He stopped harassing her, stopped coming to "visit" her in the night.  Her life was her own again.  The few times she saw Lucius with his son sickened her with the gifts he lavished on an infant unable to understand, and made her eternally thankful that he did not want her in his life any longer.  She also made sure to stay as far away from her son's room as it was possible to be while still living in the same house.

            She privately sneered at the name Lucius had given his son.  Draco.  What, exactly did he want?  His son to grow wings and start breathing fire?  


	3. Freer Days

Okay, so I'm caving.  Here's part three folks.

My friend Foodie has posted Lucius's half of this story.  It's called Dark Descent.  Go check it out.  

As for the people that have reviewed, thank you.  Leira & Stormy-days, I hope you enjoy this as much as the first two chapters.  There will be two more chapters, as long as I get some more reviews.

Oh, and they're not mine, but she did invade my mind, and since JK refuses to tell her story, I get the chance.

Part 3

            Then the Dark Lord's fall came.  Due to a boy not far from her own son's age.  A boy called Harry Potter.  And Lucius returned.  The boy's name became a curseword in the Malfoy family—for more than one reason.  His rise in power curtailed, Lucius required his arm decoration once more.  And more, he had decided that one son would not be enough.  But Narcissa knew it was no use.  The constant beatings, and later the inattention after Draco's birth had left her barren.  There would be no siblings for Lucius's son.  

The beatings were worse than before.  The names, too.  She thought, if only she could leave—but then Draco came to see her one night, after a particularly intense beating.  He stood in the door, and simply stared.  

Old enough now to speak, it took a great deal of time for him to find words.  "Mother?"

Narcissa looked up from the floor, where she lay battered, bruised and bloody.  "What do you want?"  It was the most she had ever said to her son, this clone of Lucius that she had borne.

He came over to her and looked down at her.  "Why do you let him do this to you?"

As she looked at the boy she had thought she loathed as much as his father, something inside her broke.  Silent tears slid down her cheeks.  Tears for the girl who had given up her NEWTs, had left school, had given up her family—to marry a man she truly loathed.

But seeing Draco looking down at her with no more than curiosity on his face, she realized something that day.  She could hurt Him, just as much, if not more, as he had hurt her—through his son.  His precious, pure-blood, full-fledged Malfoy heir.  She could turn him into something else.  A Black.  In heart if not in name.

And so Draco's education in all things Black began.  Lucius's frequent out-of-town trips were spent with Draco cuddled against his mother as she recited the family tree to him, and listened jubilantly as he recited them back.  She gave him the Black family ring—to be given only to the one he would marry, she told him.  He soaked it up like a sponge.

She told him of her great-great grandfather, who had been headmaster at Hogwarts in his day.  She told him also of her sister, Bellatrix, who had been sent with her husband to Azkaban for trying to find the Dark Lord.  She told him the good, the bad and the terrible.  He had to know.  He had to be better.

Time passed, and Draco grew, immersed in two rich family histories, and Narcissa waited for the day she could finally show her husband her true contempt.  

It came with Draco's letter from Hogwarts. 

Draco ran into her room with the letter, excited and happy, Lucius slowly following behind.  His gaze told her to keep silent.  She refused.  "Draco, sweetie, that's wonderful."  She kissed him on the head.  "Perhaps we could make it a family outing to Diagon Alley to get you your things."

Lucius scowled at her.  "He's not going.  I'm sending him to Durmstrang."  He snatched the letter from his son's hand, and glared down at it.

For the first time in her life, Narcissa advanced on her husband.  "He's going, Lucius.  I will not have him sent to the wilds of the Arctic Circle just to please your silly pride!  He's as much my son as yours, and if you try to do otherwise, I will see that you suffer as much as I have suffered for seventeen years."

Lucius, surprised at this outburst from a woman who had never so much as whimpered, even in the worst beatings he had given her, flinched and stepped back.  Then he glanced at his son.  Draco looked at the two of them, his pale eyes round.  The only times he'd ever seen his parents together, his mother had been silent, accepting of all the abuse her husband had heaped on her, and Draco had always gone to his mother afterwards to comfort her.  The Blacks were her comfort, and so he sat while she told him story after story about his long-dead ancestors, every bit as powerful and deadly as the Malfoys.  Every bit as cunning and devious as well, he was beginning to learn.

This time, it was Narcissa who got her way.

            And so Draco was to attend Hogwarts, like his parents before him.  And with his first letters home, Narcissa began to learn of the "Boy Who Lived."  Draco was one of the first of his classmates to meet him.  Though his father had told him to stay as far from him as possible, Draco, his mother's son as well, had made a friendly gesture, friendly for a Malfoy anyway—and been rebuffed.

            Narcissa received daily owls from her son, commenting on his annoyance about the boy.  Narcissa gritted her teeth and told him to ignore the git. 

            Her home life slowly improved.  

            Lucius, amazed at the backbone he had never known his wife had had, stayed out all hours, and the two rarely crossed paths.  They still attended events together, but always, after their "grand" entrance, they would immediately separate and not see each other until the end of the evening, when he would escort her home, and the two would separate once more.

            The beatings no longer happened.

            There was something new that she saw in his eyes, the rare times he looked at her.  Something like fear.  Or pride.  

            When Draco returned from Hogwarts, he was filled with venomously envious stories of the Boy Who Lived.  How dare he be more noticed than him?  How dare he be allowed to be on the Quidditch team for his house, when Draco was one of the best players he knew?  Narcissa listened carefully, allowing her son to spill all the venom he had stored inside over the last year, and offered no advice until he was done.

            She told Draco that the boy was beneath him.  That to pay any attention to him only allowed him power over Draco.  Draco, too much like his father, could not accept this answer.  He scowled, but said no more about the boy to his mother that summer.

            However, Lucius seemed to be enflamed by his son's words.  Narcissa knew he was planning something, and she wondered if the Boy Who Lived would be living much longer.  After all, Narcissa wasn't the only one who always got what she wanted.

            When Lucius came back from taking Draco to Diagon Alley that summer with a bloody lip, Narcissa was almost concerned for that other boy's safety. 

            That Christmas, Lucius insisted that Draco stay at Hogwarts.  Narcissa wondered, but did not argue.  Whatever plans he had for Draco, if she tried to argue against them, she knew the beatings would begin again.  As it was, Lucius spent the holiday away from home a great deal.  When he was home, Narcissa made sure to spend as much time in her own room as possible.

            It was a miserable Christmas.

But she needn't have been concerned for that other boy's safety.  The following spring, all Lucius's machinations managed to do was decrease his own power, and lose them a house elf.  Privately, Narcissa gloated.  To her son, she showed only concern as he spilled his anger over yet another year bettered by that boy.


	4. The Beginning

Here is part four.  There's one more to come.  Also, if you're enjoying this, it's actually part one of a possibly four-part series, centered around the Malfoys.  The second and third parts are done by my friend Foodie, part two is Lucius's half of this story, called Dark Descent, part three is a story where Lucius meets his match in love and everything else, called De Die In Diem: From Day to Day.  Part four depends on how well the first three parts are reviewed.  We are hungry for reviews, folks, so please R+R!

Leira, thanks for the review, she's actually still got a ways to go.  Old blood will out, you know…  Enjoy.

Oh, and they're not mine, but she did invade my mind, and since JK refuses to tell her story, I get the chance.

Part 4

            Another summer passed, and another year with Draco away at school.  And then it began.  At the Quidditch World Cup. 

            Her first glimpse of this boy—the boy that had defeated the Dark Lord, frustrated her husband's ambitions, and enraged her son—was so innocuous that at first she had no idea who she was seeing.  But a quick glance at her husband's and son's faces told her volumes.  As she sat in her seat, ignoring the events going on in front of her, she finally got a good, measured glimpse of him.  This was the Boy That Lived?  This scrawny, gangly, baggy boy, whose clothes were little better than the clothes they allowed their house elves?  While everyone else watched the game, she spent the time examining him searching for some clue of the power that this boy contained.  He looked no better than her son, certainly.  In terms of looks, Draco far outshone him.  But there was something—some indescribable…something that made it hard for her to tear her eyes from his face, from the scar given him in that first battle with the Dark Lord, a battle that should have left him a corpse, but had instead changed the wizarding world forever.

            But it was what happened that night that truly changed everything.  Lucius had disappeared for an hour, then reappeared, surrounded by several "old friends" that she recognized from the days when she had suspected him of being one of the Dark Lord's minions.  Seeing this, she hurried to her son's room and woke him.  "Draco.  Wake up."  Draco was groggy, but when she told him to grab his robe and sent him into the forest, he went quietly, no questions asked.  Then she returned to deal with her husband.

            Was he a fool?  Did he think that he could get away with such a foolish gesture?  She could never tell what was in her husband's head, but she could not allow this to harm their son.  Lucius's response was very familiar.  She regained consciousness later, body aching, and gazed out at where her husband and his "friends" were enjoying themselves.  Then she saw it.  The Dark Mark.  Horror froze her for a moment.  It had come from the forest.  Just where she had sent Draco.  She ran the entire way.  After several minutes of horrified searching, she found him, and dragged him back to their tent, cursing her husband the entire way.

            Lucius had already arrived, and changed back into his normal black robes before they had returned.  She approached her husband, burning with anger, her earlier bruises forgotten, and proceeded to tell him exactly what kind of an idiot she thought he was.  Lucius raised his cane, then looked behind her to where his son still stood.  "Draco.  Go to bed."

            "No."

            Narcissa turned to look at her son, horrified.  It was the first time she had ever heard her son defy his father.  She took a deep breath, smiled grimly, then turned again to face Lucius once more.  Her gaze dared him to beat her in front of his precious son.  Let Draco see just exactly what his father was.  She knew that for Draco, it would be the last straw, and Lucius would lose the precious son that he had carefully groomed to follow in his footsteps.

This showdown had ended in a stalemate, but not without a growled promise from Lucius that she would regret defying him.

And, once Draco returned to Hogwarts, she did—for a time.  But soon Lucius became distracted.  Often, in the middle of one of her beatings, his raised cane would suddenly lower again, and he would clasp his arm, then, with a worried look, he would sweep from the room.  Then one night, shortly before Draco's return from Hogwarts, it happened.  As before, the cane raised, then he faltered, but this time, a hiss passed his clenched teeth, and instead of clenching his arm, he pulled up his sleeve.  There was a mark there.  Black and red and…pulsing?  Lucius didn't even spare her a look as he seemed to almost flee from the room.

Though there were differences from earlier distractions, at first Narcissa thought nothing of them.  But his return that night told her far more than she wanted to know.  The look on Lucius's face said everything.  He wore a mixture of terror, pain, loathing, and glee that she could attribute only to one thing—his master had returned.  The Dark Lord had arisen once more.

Narcissa was terrified.  Now it was not simply Lucius who would be in danger if he upset the Dark Lord.  Now he might harm Draco too.

And, too, she knew that Lucius would not hesitate until Draco had joined him at his master's side.  But what could she do to prevent it?  And when Draco returned home from Hogwarts, she was even more concerned, for Draco's anger against that boy had grown into such a rage that he spent the first month home in a horrific temper, slamming doors and kicking the house elves.  He was becoming even more like his father. 

Luckily, Lucius spent very little time at home that summer.

At the end of the summer, when Draco received his letter, Lucius was ecstatic.  Draco had been made a prefect.  "No more than you deserve, boy.  You're a Malfoy."  He lavished Draco with attention and gifts.  It all made Narcissa ill.

The night before Draco left for Hogwarts, Narcissa called him into her room.  She was not going to the station with them, and so she wanted to say a private goodbye to him.  Draco entered, and as usual, settled on her bed.

Narcissa looked her son in the eye.

"I know this year will be difficult for you, Draco."

Draco smirked.  "I don't know," he drawled.  "It's looking pretty good to me.  Maybe that Potter will finally be expelled.  I mean, he almost was this summer, so he's on his last chance."

Narcissa sighed.  "I wish you wouldn't dwell on that boy.  It isn't worth your time.  You're the Heir of two major houses, Draco.  He's nothing.  Please, don't do anything to lower yourself to his level."

She watched as her son's eyes glowed silver, then narrowed.  "He's the one who's going to have to watch his step this year, Mother."  Then, like a cloud passing, his expression changed, and he became her son once more and smiled.  "I'll miss you this year."  He looked at her another moment, a worried expression in his eyes.  "Stay out of his way, okay?  If he doesn't see you…maybe he won't hurt you."  He bowed his head.

She wrapped her arms around her son.  It was times like this that she felt as though her son were two separate beings in one body.  This boy was nothing like the one who had threatened his classmate just a moment before.  "I'll be fine, Draco.  I've lived with your father for more than twenty years, and I'm still alive."

He scowled at her, but she held his gaze.   He smiled again, and they hugged.  


	5. The End

Here is the last part.  I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.  It was just about the easiest thing I ever wrote.

Also, if you're enjoying this, it's actually part one of a possibly four-part series, centered around the Malfoys.  The second and third parts are done by my friend Foodie, part two is Lucius's half of this story, called Dark Descent, part three is a story where Lucius meets his match in love and everything else, called De Die In Diem: From Day to Day.  They are posted under her name here on FF.net.  Go check them out.

Part four will be about Draco, but whether it's written depends on how well the first three parts are reviewed.  We are hungry for reviews, folks, so please R+R!

BellaIzMuhHomeGirl – check this out.  Your namesake is in this chapter!  You'll have to let me know what you think. :)

Jopsdfa – here's the last chapter.  Hope you like it.

Oh, and they're not mine, but she did invade my mind, and since JK refuses to tell her story, I get the chance.

Part 5

The next morning, when her husband returned from the station, there was a strange smile on his face.  He went to his study, and Narcissa did not see him all day.  When she checked the news the following weekend, though, she was curious at a news story in the Daily Prophet about her cousin, Sirius.  Someone had apparently seen him in London.  She knew that her cousin wasn't exactly what the Daily Prophet made him out to be, almost certain that the last person he would have turned against was the man he was accused of betraying: James Potter.  She knew that most had assumed that he had betrayed the Potters, but few knew just how little time he had spent with his own family, and how he had run away from home to live with James while they were still in school.  She also knew that the reason he was accused of betraying Potter was because everyone believed that he had been the Dark Lord's right-hand-man.  Narcissa knew this was not true.  She had seen Lucius's grimaces when others suggested this, and she also knew her husband's feelings about her cousin.

The truth about her cousin finally came to her one night shortly before Christmas as they were eating dinner.  An old, familiar Black family servant came to see her.  Kreacher, her aunt's house-elf arrived just after they had sat down to dinner.  He had news for her, which pleased Lucius far more than it did Narcissa.  Sirius Black was the Boy Who Lived's godfather.  That meant that the boy would probably do anything to save him.  Had Narcissa been alone when the house-elf had arrived, she would never have said anything to Lucius.  It was not that she cared at all for her cousin, but she could not stand the thought of Lucius gaining still more power.  Instead, she watched helpessly as her husband responded. Lucius's eyes glowed, then he quickly apparated away, probably to tell his master.

For days, she worried.  Was this a good thing, or a bad thing?  If Lucius proved himself to his master, perhaps that would be all that was required.  Their son would be safe from the Dark Lord's rages.   But what if it wasn't?  Could she protect her son now?

Draco returned for the holidays, gleeful.  It seemed the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher hated the Boy Who Lived.  He had received detentions galore, and what was better, he had been prevented from playing Quidditch at Hogwarts ever again.  As pleased as Narcissa was to see her son so happy, inside she knew that there were dark things that could threaten her son—things that she had no way of preventing. 

And the weekend Draco returned to school, those dark things increased.  By ten.  Lucius came into her room that night, a strange light in his eyes.  The fact that he was in her room was unusual, as he had come to her room only once since the night she had stood up to him about Draco attending Hogwarts.  And that had not been a good night.  But it was the look on her face that terrified her.

He smiled at her, and her heart plummeted.  Had he managed to convince their son to join him at the Dark Lord's side? 

"I have a little present for you, Narcissa."

She knew it would not be good.  Presents from Lucius were deadly, even damaging.  "What is it?" 

He turned to the door behind him, which he had shut upon his entrance, and opened it once more.  Narcissa's gasp of horror only broadened his smile.  There, in the doorway, stood a woman that Narcissa had not seen for fourteen years, Bellatrix.  How had she escaped?  Why had Lucius brought her here?  Didn't he know how dangerous to the family it would be to have a known fugitive in their home?

When Bella spoke, it was no more than a whisper, her voice hoarse from years of disuse.  "I always told you that you married the wrong sister, Lucius.  She hardly looks excited to see me."  She stepped into Narcissa's room.  "What, no hug for me, Narcissa?  Didn't you miss me?"  She smirked, a smile almost worthy of Lucius himself. 

Narcissa turned to her husband, her heart still in her throat.  "Lucius, why…how…what is she doing here?  Surely you can't risk having someone find her here."

His glare made her cower, but she refused to look away.  "It is not for you to question why I do anything.  Your sister will be staying for a while.  I hope you will make her comfortable.  And believe me, Narcissa," he said as he stepped closer to her, his eyes storm clouds with lightning just beyond sight, "if she is not comfortable, she will let me know."  Lucius turned, nodded to Bellatrix, and swept from the room, the door closing behind him with an audible click.

Bella turned to look at her sister, a jeer on her face.  "Well?  No happy family reunion?"

Narcissa turned from her and moved to her closet.  She pulled out a dress, then returned to where her sister stood and handed it to her.  "Here.  You should change out of those rags."

Bella's eyes closed to near-slits.  "Worried that I'll bring down your property values, Narcissa?"

"Lucius told me to make you comfortable.  Are you going to tell me that you're really more comfortable in that?"  She looked appraisingly at the rags her sister wore.

Bella snarled then grabbed the gown and stormed into her sister's bathroom.  When she returned to Narcissa's room, she actually looked little better, but Narcissa figured that it was the best she could do for now.

But her sister, she was to discover, was not the only new escapee from Azkaban.  She soon discovered that all Voldemort's supporters had escaped the prison and were now at large.  Luckily, Narcissa only had to deal with one.  

Over the next few months, Narcissa now not only had to deal with her husband's tempers, but her sister's as well.  And visitors were infrequent, almost all were Lucius's "friends."  Bella's too, she discovered.

Narcissa's worry for her son increased.  How could she keep her son away from this?  How could she save him from this life? 

But it was Lucius who solved the problem for her.  It was Lucius who led the raid on the Ministry of Magic, and Lucius who was arrested.

Bella was gone.  Taken by the Dark Lord or dead, Narcissa did not care.  There was no one left to cause her problems any more.  

She was free.

Unfortunately, she was also to find that she had nothing.

It turned out that Lucius had been faking it for years.  There was nothing of the Malfoy family fortune left.  The house was to be repossessed, and Narcissa discovered that there was not a single knut left in their account at Gringotts.

So now it came down to one thing.  It was time to leave.  Narcissa looked in the mirror one final time.  She would not be coming back.  She would pick Draco up at the station, and they would go to her father's home.  Perhaps this was even her chance to save Draco from the fate his father had prepared for him.

Only time would tell.

Finis.


End file.
